Saturday, July 6, 2024 | St. Lawrence County, NY
Last year vehicles lined State Highway 37 as we searched for a place to park in Morristown. When we finally found a spot we exited the cool interior of the vehicle and emerged in a muggy blanket of hot air that’s common in every St. Lawrence County summer.
The boys were excited as we headed toward live music, the smell of fried bread dough and a host of vendors who’d be keeping us fed until we were able to watch the fireworks, which were still an hour or two away.
The boys had decided that cotton candy was priority one and us parent folk were already soaked in sweat as we climbed the hill. Despite assurances from the lads that they’d used the bathroom before we left they both suddenly agreed, a rare thing in its own right, that they needed them immediately.
I scouted up the hill to see long lines in front of the famous blue stalls, which are less than ideal places for your four-year old to go number two and I feared the length of the line would be a bit too much.
Fortunately as we passed the fire station on the way they kindly obliged us with their facilities, avoiding what would have otherwise been quite the crisis.
With the boys refreshed and my hair and clothes now drenched, my youngest decided the best place for him to be was my shoulders.
Knowing how much I was already struggling, I assumed he was doing worse and I tossed him up.
We meandered through the crowd searching high and low for that cotton candy vendor, we ran into friends and acquaintances who pointed us to the long line, which I approached like an ill-treated steed on my last journey. But after 30 minutes or so we did it.
We’d bought the boys cotton candy and sno-kones and made our way back to the car near a park where we’d planned to watch the fireworks. We hauled out the chairs and drinks and things were looking up.
But, the tough thing about fireworks in St. Lawrence County, especially in the valley, is that just before the sun sets, swarms of vampiric bugs come out in numbers that are hard to fathom.
Of course we’d come prepared with bug spray, but those river and swamp bred mosquitoes of Northern St. Lawrence County seem to be some sort of high-powered mutants - hardly deterred by chemicals of any kind and hungry as can be.
I spent the next 30 minutes or so using a hooded sweatshirt to fan them away from the boys while I served as a sweat-soaked meal for our little friends.
Then it began slowly at first and then building up. The sky was lit up and bangs echoed on the nearby St. Lawrence River as the show got underway. The boys who’d been getting bored and anxious in their wait were now in awe of the display.
Mom and dad enjoyed the show as well. It was certainly worth the trip, though the day could have gone smoother, it was a good day.
That’s mostly because I know that for the boys it was a very different day.
I know this because when I think about going to fairs, theme parks and fireworks as a child I don’t remember getting eaten alive by mosquitos, or scrambling for a bathroom, or dying from heat while waiting in a long line for treats.
Instead I remember laughing and joking with my brothers and friends, I remember riding on dad’s shoulders and mom buying us treats and I remember seeing the sky light up before falling asleep on the ride home.
Although most of those experiences blend together for me in a sort of mega-memory, I know I’m grateful I have them and I know my kids will be too.
Thanks to countless volunteers throughout St. Lawrence County there are many opportunities on the horizon to enjoy some of that summer magic. Whether it’s smaller but fun community events like Lisbon’s homecoming or Colton’s Lazy Hazy Days, or something bigger like Potsdam Summerfest or the Seaway Festival, take some time to check them out. They need your support.
It might not always seem like it in the moment, but try to remember that their experience is usually well worth our struggles and mosquito bites.
Jimmy Lawton is the news editor of North Country This Week and NorthCountryNow.com.
